


See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil

by ForestFairy



Series: The lesser of two evils [3]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dark, F/M, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Peeta's Paint Box, PiP - Freeform, Prompts in Panem Round 8 Day 6, hints of m/m
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5016949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFairy/pseuds/ForestFairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss notices worrying changes in Peeta’s behavior. Is confronting him with her suspicions for his benefit or hers? Can she live with guilt for a sacrifice given without consent?</p>
            </blockquote>





	See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil

**Author's Note:**

> Oneshot set during Catching Fire, written for Prompts in Panem. Part III of The lesser of two evils, takes place after The loss of innocence, works as a standalone

Prim wanted one of those fancy cakes for their mother’s upcoming birthday. They could afford any kind of cake after her victory, so this shouldn’t have presented a problem. As Peeta was a baker’s son Katniss could have simply asked him. He would’ve baked the most amazing cake, frosted in any way that Prim wanted.  
  
The hurdle was that Peeta _wasn’t_ in District 12. He had visited the Capitol with Haymitch - once more. The Victory Tour looming over their heads - dangerously close, yet Peeta had been ordered to the Capitol to do another shot for that oil-color thing he had talked about. How many commercials were they going to shoot? Annoyance was the foremost emotion Katniss felt when she heard that Peeta and Haymitch would leave Twelve - again.  
  
She had been deadly afraid for both of them when she had learned about their first trip. Then they returned unharmed, _relaxed_ even - only two days after they had left! When Peeta had made that big announcement about their trip taking a week, she had not expected to see them to return early. Katniss hadn’t even noticed that they were back, until she met Haymitch at the Hob a few days later. Her mentor told her something about production difficulties and she opted against visiting Peeta to ask, feeling a bit frustrated that he had acted weirdly, when he came to say goodbye. Sensing that he had been nervous and scared back then, it seemed silly to her that they had a fantastic time in the Capitol, while she had been almost sick with worry, hardly sleeping at night.  
  
Haymitch’s account of their funny shenanigans at a luxurious hotel made her upset at her own stupidity. Not wanting to listen to Peeta’s Capitol adventures she kept her distance from him, only greeting him when they met in town or in the Victor’s Village. Everything was stilted, stiff and awkward between Peeta Mellark and her.  
  
There was only one solution to the cake situation with Peeta absent: Visiting Mellark’s. Buy a cake from his parents. Going there would be more than unpleasant. The prospect alone brought feelings of dread to her mind. Katniss hadn’t spoken to the baker since he visited her in the Justice Building, half a year, no - half a lifetime ago. He had given her cookies, cookies she had thrown out of the train window. She had never spoken to the baker’s wife, Peeta’s witch of a mother. At least she couldn’t remember any conversation - only angry shouting. Mrs. Mellark definitely knew who she was, because Mr. Mellark had been in love with Katniss’ mother. At least according to Peeta assuming he wouldn’t have made it up.  
  
Every place in District 12 seems more inviting tonight.  
  
This is for Prim though. She would’ve sent Prim to fetch the cake herself, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. She needed to protect Prim at all costs, couldn’t stand the thought of Mrs. Mellark bullying her little duck.  
  
It is the first time she actually visits the bakery by entering through the front door, by herself. As a child she had been here with her father from time to time. Later she had traded with Peeta’s brothers at the back two or three times, which was mostly for Gale’s sake, so that his family could have bread. Gale didn’t seem to happy when she visited his house one evening, after a successful trade at the bakery. She knew he didn’t want her to have contact with Peeta and that included Peeta’s family. While she agreed on keeping her distance, it wasn’t as simple a matter as pretending that Peeta was nothing to her. And why should she?  Only to spare Gale’s feelings? Trading was natural and helped getting some sort of routine back. School wasn’t an issue anymore. What was she supposed to do all day?  
  
Shaking of these thoughts, she pushes the door knob and enters the bakery, hoping that one of Peeta’s brothers is behind the counter tonight.  
  
No such luck. The gaze of Mrs. Mellark meets hers for a second then flickers away quickly while she awkwardly shuffles into the queue, hiding behind two customers in front of her. Turning around she surveys the cakes in the window, catching a glance of her reflection, immediately regretting it. She had been hunting earlier and didn’t clean up, trying to make it to town before the bakery closed. Her hair looks messy, a few small leaves caught in her braid, her boots are caked in mud. She is a victor, a grown woman and suddenly feels like that dirty little seam brat the witch had accused of going through her trash bins. Cursing the fact that she didn’t make herself look more presentable before coming here, she wonders where that strange feeling comes from, a desire to look as attractive as possible in front of Peeta’s mother.  
  
“My son isn’t here.”  
  
Katniss turns around seeing that the other customers have left the shop. She stands in the middle of the bakery all by herself. Alone with Mrs. Mellark who examines her figure with a piercing scrutiny that Katniss cannot interpret. It certainly isn’t a sneer though and that’s good? At least she hopes so.  
  
She clears her throat and replies, “Yeah. I know. I’m here because I want to order a cake.”  
  
“What kind of cake?” Mrs. Mellark takes out a slip of paper to write the order down, demeanor all business.  
  
“My sister Primrose wants the cake. Maybe like one of those in the window?” She should have asked Prim what exactly she had in mind, as she has no idea what kind of cake her mother prefers.  
  
“Well, what’s the occasion? Knowing that would help,” Mrs. Mellark states in that clippish voice of hers.  
  
“Uhm, yes. It’s a birthday cake,” Katniss answers.  
  
“For your sister? What does she like?”  
  
“No, it’s for my mother.”  
  
That probably was the wrong thing to say as Mrs. Mellark raises her eyes from the paper, stares at Katniss who in turn begins to blush crimson. Coming here to buy a birthday cake, for her own mother of all people, had been foolish. She didn’t want to humiliate anyone, not even Peeta’s mother. She doesn’t like Mrs. Mellark, that’s true. Peeta had told all of Panem that his father did want to marry her mother. It must’ve hurt the merchant woman’s pride, that this fact became public knowledge.  
  
“Forget it,” she quickly says, wanting to flee, turning around to leave the bakery.  
  
“Katniss, wait.”  
  
Katniss? Not trusting her ears she turns back hesitantly. Mustering Peeta’s mother closely, she finds herself observing the woman for the first time. She isn’t unpleasant to look at, not at all. Peeta’s mother has beautiful blue eyes, and those wonderful long blond eyelashes, wears her golden locks in a bun, her cheeks rosy from the oven heat.  Katniss can see that Peeta looks more like his mother than his father. He has that stocky build of the Mellark men, but his face, his eyes and nose — he resembles her more. And when she is not wearing that cold hearted sneer on her face, Peeta’s mother is quite attractive.  
  
“Business is business, Miss Everdeen,” the baker’s wife says, a tad colder than before, probably angry at Katniss for staring. “We will create a nice birthday cake for your mother. When do you need it?”  
  
“Tuesday,” Katniss answers.  
  
“Consider it done. You can pay on Tuesday,” Mrs. Mellark seems to have more on her mind, indicated by a small little cough that leaves her throat. She opens her mouth to speak and then closes it again, obviously having a hard time deciding if she should speak or leave it. It is almost comical.  
  
“Do you,” she coughs some more and Katniss wonders if the woman is actually sick, “do you know when Peeta will be back?” she finally asks.  
  
“I think he’ll return on Sunday, but I’m not sure,” Katniss answers. “We don’t talk much.”  
  
She wonders why she offered that last bit of information. Why would Mrs. Mellark care about their relationship?  
  
“It’s just, he said that he was shooting some commercials in the Capitol last time. I kept watching Capitol TV every night and there is never any mentioning of him or Abernathy in the news and I haven’t seen the commercial. They always report it when Victors are in the Capitol on Capitol Boulevard with Enid Hazelman. But I haven’t seen my…. I haven’t seen him.”  
  
Mrs. Mellark’s voice seems to have pleading edge now, which confuses Katniss. Does this woman care about Peeta after all? Or does she only care about the fame her son brings to the bakery? It’s confusing. Katniss never watches Capitol TV but she knows that the Districts receive different programs. It is all heavily censored and filtered.  
  
“They wouldn’t show these commercials in the Districts. We’re not the target group for oil color,” she finds herself reassuring Peeta’s mother, wondering if the bakery might be bugged.  
  
Still - even if the explanation sounds logical, it is strange that there was no mentioning of Peeta in that Capitol Boulevard show. Why are they ignoring Peeta and Haymitch’s presence? Wouldn’t they jump at the chance of having more interviews? Or does this have to do anything with her, their star-crossed lover act or even the berries? This is worrying indeed.  
  
“Makes sense,” Peeta’s mother is less suspicious, continues seemingly satisfied, “Thank you for telling me. In return let me give you a piece of advice. You said that you keep your distance from Peeta - good. That boy of mine is bullheaded. You should stop leading him on, tell him once and for all or he’ll keep on hoping, never getting the hint. Don’t you agree that this behavior is unwarranted?”  
  
Before Katniss even has the chance to speak up against any of these statements another customer enters the bakery and Mrs. Mellark ignores her presence entirely, turning all her attention to the newcomer. Katniss leaves the bakery, not only hurt but also weirded out. Never thinking that Peeta’s mother would have such an insight to her son’s relationships. Were they that obvious in their fake romance? Or did Peeta talk to his mother about them? Somehow she cannot believe that he would. He felt abandoned by them, surely. Katniss never knew how much they actually saw of each other after they returned to Twelve. And she knows that she’s a bad actress, President Snow certainly seemed to think so. Might be that Mrs. Mellark is receptive? Agitated that she didn’t defend Peeta to his mother, she thinks _'Peeta is not stupid, he is intelligent and sensitive'_.

All too familiar feelings of guilt start to fester in her stomach. What could she have said to Mrs. Mellark in defendance of Peeta, when most of the statements concerning her were all but true? Would Katniss ever stop hurting Peeta?

Keeping her distance was the only way.  
  
Katniss remembers what Peeta’s mother told her youngest son in the Justice Building. She had believed in her, somehow. In Katniss Everdeen. Mrs. Mellark had seen something in her, had thought of her, might even have a secret kind of respect for her.  
  
_‘She’s a survivor, that one.’_  
  
Peeta’s mother had not only believed her to be tougher than her own son, she had believed that she was tougher than the _careers_. The stone-hearted woman and Katniss might have more in common than she’d ever like to admit. Somehow the thought gives her cold shivers.

 

* * *

  
  
Peeta offers to be more friendly, for them to become closer. Katniss is glad about it, as it will make things much easier. Peeta hasn’t seen Snow in the Capitol, so when Panem’s President pays a visit to the Everdeen’s house before the Victory Tour Katniss can only wonder about the words he left her with.  
  
“He’s such a lovely boy. Obedient. You could learn a lesson about love from him.” 

His threats were scary, but Katniss never understood what he meant by _that_. Snow knew that their romance was fake. What did he mean, lesson about love? It’s true, Peeta was in love with her. Is in love with her? She’s not sure. He certainly became much more physical, when they met lately. Touching her back, caressing her arm and that kiss in the snow had been different from the ones they shared before. Steady, yes. But it seemed like something had changed in Peeta. He seemed more assured about the way he caressed her. Before their kissing had been a mutual exploring of each other’s lips. Now Peeta controlled their kisses, dominated them. When he pushed his tongue inside of her mouth, it felt rather invading. Teasing, controlling and more urgent than even the kiss Gale pressed on her lips in the woods. It felt too passionate, too _intimate_. Not at all like their kisses back in the Games.  
  
Katniss isn’t sure, if she likes that side of Peeta. He only performed like this, when they were kissing for the cameras, so she tells herself not to worry too much. After all she was forced to live a happily ever after - with Peeta. Who knows what would happen if Peeta decided to leave the farce and not play along? As Peeta is becoming more popular in the Capitol, there might be other options for him. Haymitch never visited the Capitol much in his years as the lone Victor. Peeta, on the other hand is popular, extremely sought after.

No one orders her to go. No calls from Effie, Cinna, no one. She tells herself it is because of Peeta’s likeability, his way with words, his charm. A bad feeling about his solo trips remains, back, in a far, far corner of her mind.

 

* * *

  
  
The Victory Tour is not what she expects. It’s taking its toll on her. Smiling, pretending, playing a part in some bizarre performance. Katniss Everdeen is bad at acting. How come Peeta had never realized that? In the games and after? Because she can see it in everyone’s faces, from Haymitch to Cinna or Portia. Acting is not what she is about, acting doesn’t come natural to her. Even when it comes to life and death situations, she is _still_ not able to. She is still not able to be all that. All they want her to be. An actress — playing her part.  
  
Fear of not playing her role good enough makes her stiff, her limbs stilted. Like a puppet, like a marionette. On train tv she watches herself in the Districts and all she sees is a stranger wearing her face as a mask. Katniss is slowly going crazy. She is sixteen, almost seventeen. This should be the best time in her life, but this life she is living now almost feels like she is on morphling. Standing beside that girl, watching her, not being herself. She doesn’t remember who Katniss Everdeen is. Her own self-image stilted, twisting.  
  
Is she that girl from the Seam? Or that _girl_ on fire? Is she…a _woman_? It’s not only Gale and Peeta that look at her _that_ way. Katniss is uncomfortably aware of the looks she receives in her tight dresses. How her skinny limbs gave way to a much curvier figure, that she isn’t sure she likes. Her eating habits changed and so did her body. Her period, barely making a weak appearance every few months, now appears to be a regular occurrence. Growing a few inches since the games, she had thought she had reached her final height and then her old clothes didn’t fit anymore. She wears them anyway, her old almost forgotten pajama. Her mother had wanted to throw it away and she had saved it, for what she wasn’t sure. Nostalgia perhaps as these pajamas had once been her father’s.  
  
In these old pajamas she lies in her bed in the compartment of a train that drives her, Peeta and Haymitch through Panem, her country, the country she never thought she would see.  
  
She’s not sure how it begins, during the nights. Isn’t sure if she wants Peeta Mellark in her bed. Helping her after she wakes up screaming. Seeing Rue in her dreams reliving the arena. He is there to offer comfort. Peeta holds her, tight and loving. His caresses soothing her broken heart and his words healing parts of her broken mind. She wonders why Peeta never has any nightmares of his own.  
  
Until one night, he has.

* * *

  
  
It’s in District Four where Katniss and Peeta are introduced to a group of Capitol officials. She and Peeta stand next to each other while Effie introduces countless people. They swim together, these faceless shadows, these bizarre people who all look the same. Face after face after face. She stopped paying attention days ago.  
  
“And this is Janet Agrippa, the former secretary of interior,” Effie pipes happily, while an obese woman in her fifties comes into view. Her hair is bright pink and her outfit consists of something that can only be described as a neon-yellow tutu. Katniss is tempted to make a quick joke with Peeta, whisper something rude about that clownish woman into his ear, when the woman laughs deeply.  
  
“Oh, you don’t have to introduce me,” she giggles, while her arms reach out towards Peeta who stiffens visibly next to her, “Sweet Peeta here knows me. I’ve missed you, darling.”  
  
Her long pink fingernails scratch possessively over Peeta’s arm and Katniss wonders why he allows this invasion of personal space happen. How does Peeta know this woman?  
  
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Agrippa,” Effie murmurs, suddenly subdued, looking at Katniss and Peeta in confusion, “I hadn’t realized that….”  
  
“Good to see you, Janet,” Peeta interrupts smoothly, pressing two kisses on the woman’s cheeks, “I didn’t expect you here. Don’t you live in the Capitol?”  
  
“I do.  I own a vacation house on the beach, and when I heard the Victory Tour was coming to Four….I just had to come. It’s been too long since you’ve been in the Capitol. And with all the time you’ve spent in the Mauve Mare or at Churcher’s mansion I hardly got to see you.”  
  
Katniss stares at the woman, her curiosity piked. She doesn’t understand a word. Is it about the ads Peeta’s done in the Capitol?  
  
“I’ll be back, that’s for certain,” Peeta says, voice as casual as if he’s talking about the weather, “Can I introduce Katniss Everdeen to you?”  
  
“Hello Katniss,” Janet says, turning her attention to Katniss, “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. You’re adorable, like a doll. So petite. And look at your skin, wow. You're much more gorgeous in real life.”  
  
Katniss is uncomfortable under another woman’s gaze. Janet Agrippa looks her up and down, like she is food. She makes a move in and Katniss fears for a moment that she’s about to pinch her cheeks, feeling a blush forming all  over her face and cleavage. She has never been more aware of how exposed these dresses made her look than tonight.  
  
“Ah,” the woman almost purrs, “How I’d love to see the both of you in…”  
  
Katniss never gets to hear what the woman would love the both of them to be in, because Effie interrupts to introduce a group of Capitol architects to Peeta.    
She hears the woman mumble something about rudeness and finding Finnick Odair while she disappears in the crowd. They don’t have time for a talk, here in this banquet hall of District Four’s justice building, but her curiosity must be satisfied. What exactly is Peeta doing in the Capitol on these trips? Where are these places, the woman mentioned? Mauve Mare? Churcher’s mansion? These don’t sound like galleries or a painting studio. And why does the former secretary of interior complain to Peeta about rarely seeing him? What is really going on here?

 

* * *

  
  
Exhaustion overwhelms Katniss and she barely has the energy to remove her makeup before sliding out of that restricting dress to struggle into her old pajama, letting herself fall into bed before she drifts off to the sound of the train moving.  
  
She is dimly aware of crying out at night. Then the feeling of strong arms around her. His sweet scent and warm presence lulling her into sleep once more. And then she is dreaming. At first there is warmth. It’s cozy and she feels herself snuggling closer to that source of warmness. Her whole body feels hot, flushed. The hotness pools between her legs and she can feel her sex pulsing slightly, slickening. Erotic dreams are a rare oddity in Katniss’ live. Wet dreams rarer still. She can count on her hand the times she awoke with drenched panties and a feeling of emptiness between her legs and then…the slight twinge of disappointment that it all had been a dream.  
  
Opening her eyes lazily, she sees only darkness. The train is still moving so the sun has not yet risen. She is lying on her stomach facing the pillow and Peeta is rutting against her leg, while she rubs her groin against the bed.  
  
Wait.

Her eyes snap open and she stops her moves immediately, listening. Peeta groans, leaves little huffs of breath in her ear. For a few moments she doesn’t know what to do. What the appropriate reaction is. Some part of her likes it. Some part of her is disgusted. The voice of reason in her mind tells her that Peeta is asleep. He is asleep and he is sixteen and he doesn’t know what he is doing.

Peeta has never done something sexual in her presence before. Never has she felt his erections. He has always been the perfect gentlemen. The image of that woman with the yellow tutu and the pink fingernails lingers at the back of her mind giving her goosebumps. This might be an awkward moment between the two of them, but why does this woman invade her thoughts now? It makes no sense.  
  
Turning around she prepares to wake him, tries to gently push him away, when he doesn’t budge. How to do this? He is hard against her leg, still trying to dry hump it clumsily. It’s the worst possible moment to realize that Peeta is much bigger than her. He could easily overwhelm her if he wanted. Just rip her pajama to shreds and slide ride in. The thought that it probably wouldn’t hurt, as she is slick with desire, makes her take action. She pushes both hands against his chest and hisses his name.  
  
“Peeta. Peeta, wake up,” she urges when she feels something wet against her thigh.  
  
Peeta moans and his eyes slowly open while he continues to gently rock against her. He is pale, and there are some traces of redness on his cheek. He closes his eyes again and Katniss hisses.  
  
“Peeta,” she scolds, louder this time, uncomfortably aware that he spilled his seed directly next to her, almost _on_ her. This is not right. “What are you doing?”  
  
His eyes snap open and he looks disoriented, “Forgive me,” he groans, closing his eyes again, “Sir, I apologize.”  
  
Is he still asleep? What the hell? Sir?  
  
“Please, I’m sorry for finishing without permission…”  
  
“Peeta,” she almost yells, unable to understand what that means, nauseated by his words.  
  
His eyes are open again.  
  
“Katniss? Where?” he looks around the compartment and she sees understanding dawning in his eyes, horror settling in those impossibly blue orbs of his.  
  
“In the train, Peeta,” she says, gently. Not knowing what to feel. Not knowing what to do. “Are you alright?”  
  
He looks at her, still half-asleep, then down his messy pants, slowly shaking his head, blushing.  
  
“No,” he says, “I’m not. I didn’t mean to scare you. I had a nightmare.”  
  
A nightmare? Why are Peeta’s nightmare’s the equivalent of a wet dream? Should she comfort him? Does he _expect_ her to comfort him? Like he comforted her after her nightmares? All she feels is embarrassment and the urge to push him away. She doesn’t want him in her bed anymore — at least tonight. All that just transpires is highly uncomfortable. Peeta senses it, her stiffness, the crease of her brows.  
  
He gets up slowly and backs away to the door.  
  
“Peeta,” she begins hesitantly, “what was that?”  
  
“It is better if I sleep in my own compartment.”  
  
“What? But what about…” ' _..my nightmares_ ', she wants to finish, and then realizes that this would be the height of selfishness.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “but I can’t.”  
  
And with that he is gone, leaving a bewildered Katniss alone in her bed, confused, with lot of things to ponder.

 

* * *

  
  
Neither Katniss nor Peeta mention the incident in her compartment. They don’t say a word, not to each other, not to Haymitch or Effie. Katniss feels left alone. Alone with her nightmares and alone with her fears. They decide to get married and Peeta is unhappy but after President Snow shakes his head at her at the party in his mansion Katniss is rather relieved. Making plans to run away, she is at least happy that she won’t have to marry. The weird tension between her and Peeta doesn’t go away and she is not sure how to interpret all that has happened in these last weeks.

She knows Peeta wasn’t featured in any Capitol Celebrity shows, thanks to Mrs. Mellark. Peeta’s Paint Box was the name of the product, but she hasn’t seen a single ad. Many people in the Capitol seem to know Peeta - like that Janet Agrippa. Adding that to the mystery of the place called Mauve Mare, a horrible suspicion begins to grow within Katniss. She is dancing with the new gamemaker, a man called Plutarch Heavensbee, when she hears some guy on her left greet a big balding man, who just arrived at one of the buffet tables.  
  
“Mr. Churcher, good to see you tonight,” says the slightly smaller guy, who is sporting a ridiculous hairdo and a blue mustache. Next to the man is a woman whose face is tattooed in reptile scales.  
  
“Aonus,” greets the bigger man, but as she is straining to hear more, Plutarch Heavensbee is swirling her away from the trio. When they finish their dance she is looking for Peeta but can’t seem to find him in the crowd. The big man called Churcher is still in conversation with the mustache guy and the reptile woman and she is dying of curiosity what they are talking about, but she can’t get closer without calling attention to herself. She is easily the most famous person at the party tonight.  
  
Finding Peeta is impossible. Too many people, and they all want a word.  When she finally spots Effie a few minutes later, the golden-haired woman points in the direction of the rose gardens, where she had seen Peeta last. Katniss walks at least five minutes, gravel crunching under her heels. She takes them off, the sound irritating to her, used to make no noise, even on gravel. Just short of turning around a hedge, she overhears a familiar voice and stops, willing herself into silence.  
  
“…you think? Couldn’t you at least have warned me that he was going to be here?” Peeta’s voice is shaky, almost shrill.  
  
“For one, I didn’t know, boy. And secondly, is it really that surprising? Churcher is in Snow’s closest circle. It was to be expected.”  
  
“Well, sorry that I didn’t. It is bad enough to make happy small talk with Aonus Rore, when all I want is to kill that bastard. Lemus is pressuring me, making me do…I mean, he constantly inquires about Katniss. What should I do? How can I protect her?”  
  
Katniss swallows, shocked. She had never heard Peeta curse.  
  
“I know,” Haymitch answers quickly, “I feel exactly the same about the lot of them. Gosh, Peeta…you must believe me, I did all I could back in winter. I thought I’d bought you some time, with that scheme of you having caught a disease at the heap.”  
  
“Don’t beat yourself up over that, Haymitch. You did buy me some time and I am grateful.”“  
  
“Yeah, but in the end you still had to…,” Haymitch’s voice begins to crack.  
  
“Stop this,” Peeta hisses. “It was a choice. A choice you were willing to make, which couldn’t have been easy. It was right. She is lucky, that you have her back.”  
  
Haymitch doesn’t answer.  
  
“I think,” Peeta continues, “that she probably suspects something is up. My heart nearly stopped beating when Janet Agrippa appeared in District Four. She talked to Katniss. Was rude. She could've…I mean, she almost told Katniss and I couldn’t stop her. Effie helped me out, but in the end I was powerless. I couldn’t have stopped her. We’re just objects to them. That bitch Agrippa, you should’ve seen her Haymitch! She wasn’t even ashamed, she leered at Katniss like she was some sex-toy, a doll.”  
  
“She is not,” Haymitch says, voice stronger now, “She is not a toy. Promise me, whatever happens that you don’t forget that you aren’t a toy either, Peeta. You’re not worth any less than her, believe me. When I went to the Capitol....”  
  
Haymitch’s voice fades away just as Katniss does. Once she is at least thirty feet away she starts to run, not caring about the pain of a million little stones cutting into her bare feet, barely able to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

 

* * *

  
  
For the rest of the evening, Katniss does her best to appear normal. Peeta is making sure to stay by her side, looking around nervously. She spots the big, balding man, Churcher and casually takes a few steps into his direction when Peeta grabs her arm and steers her away.

It’s impossible. Katniss tells herself, that she has become paranoid. That this is _impossible_ , this can’t be true. That Haymitch and Peeta are not involved in some scheme to protect her, a scheme she never knew about. Haymitch always tells her the opposite. They both kept things from Peeta when the most important secret of all is between her mentor and her fellow tribute.  
  
Before Effie rushes them to the train, Katniss makes a short stop in the Ladies restroom of Snow’s mansion. She looks into the mirror and sees that girl, that girl on fire. Radiant, glowing. It’s her mask, on again. She must confront them about this. Mustn’t she? Returning from the restroom, she sees Churcher talk to Effie and Peeta. He is huge and Katniss’ stomach is feeling like a thousand little needles at this view. Like Janet Agrippa, he is invading Peeta’s personal space. Peeta is small, almost tiny next to this guy. Pale, uncomfortable, and lets the man, no the…monster stroke his backside. Peeta’s gaze is focusing on the man’s face making Katniss shudder. Her Peeta looks so young, boyish, almost innocent.  
  
Could it really be?  
  
That he knew what was going to happen in the Capitol? That there was no Peeta’s Paint Box? That Haymitch was in on it? And that they both did things Katniss cannot even dare to imagine to protect her from standing down there and experiencing this very thing?  
  
Keeping her distance she waits until they say goodbye, Churcher pressing a kiss on Peeta’s cheek.  
  
_‘Sir, I apologize…’_ he had said in the train.

Vomit threatens its way up her mouth. It can’t be. She must be wrong. Please, let her be wrong.

 

* * *

  
  
Katniss ignores Peeta and Haymitch on the train home, stays in her compartment, trying to connect the dots. Trying to make sense of the puzzle pieces. Even asks one of the train attendants about Peeta’s Paint Box, only to receive a confused look and a shake of head. It’s late at night, when she walks into the bar compartment in search of food, finds Peeta sitting on a sofa, sketching something into his notebook.  
  
“Hello,” she says and he startles. “You’re up late.”  
  
“Hey,” he answers, smiling at her, that sweet smile he wears so easily. She wonders what is going on between those guileless blue eyes of his, what he is thinking about, and if she really wants to know.  
  
“I talked to your mother,” she announces without warning and he stops sketching, locking his eyes to hers.  
  
“Really?”  
  
She nods, yes.  
  
“I had the feeling she was worried. It was when you were in the Capitol, you know. The second time.”  
  
Peeta rolls his eyes, “Yeah, sure. Why did you talk to her again?”  
  
“I went to the bakery to buy a cake. For my mother.”  
  
“That must’ve worked splendidly,” he snorts while she shakes her head, sitting down on an armchair opposite to him.  
  
“What were you really doing in the Capitol?” she finally asks, watching him stiffen immediately.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“You know very well what I mean, Peeta. Do not play games with me, I know something is up and…”  
  
“Sweetheart,” comes Haymitch’s voice from the doorway and she looks over at their mentor, who is as sober as she ever saw him. “Shut up.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Haymitch comes closer and sits down on the plush Capitol sofa, next to Peeta.  
  
“Katniss, you know these are tough times. For all of us. We must present a united front. Be quiet and listen to me for a moment.”  
  
Something in Haymitch’s voice keeps her from telling him to shove it, stop being so rude. His eyes stare into the distance and then he speaks, slowly but clearly.  
  
“Before the Dark Days,” he starts, “There was an ancient myth. It’s from a land far away from Panem. It’s basically about three mystic apes. There are many different retellings of this tale, but it basically comes down to this: One monkey covers his eyes. He sees no evil. The second monkey, he covers his ears. He hears no evil. The last monkey covers his mouth — he speaks no evil. Some things are best not to be dwelled upon. It’s better to stay ignorant. Whatever you might’ve thought you saw, forget it - you haven’t. Whatever it was that you might’ve heard - it’s untrue. And lastly, whatever you wanted to say tonight, keep it to yourself. Don’t think about it. And never talk about it with anyone - not us, no one, ever. Do you understand?”  
  
Does Haymitch really believe that Katniss will forget everything? Shut her mouth and never talk about what happened? Ignore the obvious signs of abuse Peeta suffered? Stand by? Does he really think she is that unkind, that self-absorbed that she can simply move on and ignore this?  
  
Her eyes lock with the boy with the bread's and his gaze is pleading, afraid. She looks back to Haymitch who looks determined, cold somehow, but somewhere in his grey Seam eyes there is the same pleading expression as in Peeta’s.  
  
Suddenly it dawns on her. The deeper meaning, she gets that now.

That she should keep her mouth shut. That between protecting her little Prim, mother, Gale and all of their families, that between death threats and nightlock berries, Haymitch Abernathy took a stand and made a choice. And that _her_ Peeta turned himself into a sacrifice.  
  
These two men here would kill, maim in short do all in their power to protect her. Sure, Haymitch’s little speech was full of metaphors, because the train is bugged. Both men think it is best, if Katniss stays out of this business. And really? She’s planning to run. Soon. Knowing, she won’t be able to let Peeta return to the Capitol made it more urgent. He should never return to the likes of Janet Agrippa and that man, Churcher. For now all they need is for her to acknowledge the things they’ve done for her. This is what they expect in return. Her silence. It’s the smallest thing she can do. The smallest possible gift from her.  
  
“I’m tired,” she says, standing up, Haymitch and Peeta looking on warily, “This day has been far too exhausting.”  
  
She walks to the door, hesitates, catches Peeta’s gaze for a short moment.  
  
“I’ll keep my door open,” she adds. “You know, in case…” She doesn’t elaborate, leaving this fleeting message behind.  
  
An invitation.


End file.
